Foreign Relations
by Scarlet Secret
Summary: Before Mr Kemal Pamuk visited Lady Mary's bedchamber he had a visitor of his own! Severe crack pairing of Cora/Kemal and smut and nonsense!


**A/N**: For this I have NO excuse. I don't own them and that somehow makes it better.

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><p>It started because O'Brien did something foolish.<p>

In the course of dressing her, for the first time in nine years, and for reasons best left known to her maid, whilst she was gently arranging her hair over her shoulder that evening and making her look pretty for her bed, O'Brien kissed her. She can taste wine on O'Brien breath so she puts it slightly down to that and it wouldn't be the first time they've shared a kiss. But it's not Christmas. Or either of their birthdays. Or a Thursday.

"O'Brien, what _do_ you think you're doing?"

O'Brien pulled back immediately and had pink cheeks. On any other night Cora would have taken full advantage of her embarrassment and stalked her against the wall until O'Brien looked like she was scared to death – Cora knew full well her maid wasn't remotely scared of her but put the act on for her benefit and she appreciated the effort – before promptly ravishing her. But tonight she had bigger fish to fry. O'Brien would still be here tomorrow after all.

"'m sorry m'l-"

Cora lifted an imperious hand to silence her maid, but couldn't resist smiling and stepping forth to place a matching kiss on unresisting lips.

"Don't be sorry. But not tonight. Tonight I need a favour."

O'Brien nodded immediately and looked alert. Cora blessed her for asking no questions and promised herself if her intended object of affection for the evening was up to snuff she'd invite him to stay for a few more days and invite him into her bedroom for a Thursday night.

"Can you take me to Mr Pamuk's bedroom?"

If O'Brien fond this request odd she didn't say anything and Cora was grateful for that. She wouldn't have objected to telling O'Brien the truth but it would be easier all round for her darling maid to be able to plead ignorance. The shorter woman nodded and took a few steps towards the door.

"Now m'lady?"

"Now O'Brien."

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><p>Cora opened the door without knocking and entered the room, giving O'Brien one last smirk and a wink before her maid vanished into the darkness of the house and she went into the warm, candlelit glow of the guestroom.<p>

"Lady Grantham…."

He looked shocked and Cora thought he deserved to. Did he and Mary imagine for a moment she hadn't spotted them earlier? She who had chaperoned four whole London seasons! She'd seen the way his eyes had raked over her eldest born and she couldn't deny being a little jealous – how long had it been since a young man had looked at her like that? Robert? Even in their youth Robert had never exactly _smouldered_ with lust for her and now O'Brien's adoring gaze made her feel desired but not in the way a young man ardently desired the object of his affection.

She smiled at him at he shuffled out of bed…well off it. He was sat in his dressing gown and seemed to be waiting for someone. Cora only prayed it wasn't Mary, but no, her daughter though a terrible flirt – something Cora couldn't pretend she hadn't inherited from her – was not stupid! She hoped it wasn't one of the maids but she had always thought that the likes of Gwen and Anna were infinitely more sensible that her own children so better them than Mary or, god forbid, Sybil.

"Mr Pamuuuk. I hope your evening so far has been pleasing?"

She quirked her eyebrow and spoke as coyly as she could. He seemed distinctly confused and she wondered for a moment whether there was some taboo in Turkey that forbade women in their forties from speaking to men half their age in a bedroom. Thankfully there wasn't in England and Cora spared a thought for poor Evelyn Napier who may well be waiting for his usual visit even now. Poor man. She would make it up to him next time by teaching him the American way of doing things. Robert had liked it.

"Perfectly pleasing thank you Lady Grantham. Really, you need not have come in person to see to my comfort. A maid would have done."

Cora smirked the way she had learnt from Rosamund some twenty years ago now. It was a smirk she had seen moments before the redhead had pounced for the very first time and it was not an image Cora was EVER likely to forget. She wondered whether Mr Pamuk knew what he was saying to her. A simple _maid_ would have been able to please him would she? He was about to learn the very many advantages of being chosen for an evening with the Countess of Grantham.

"Oh no. Not for a guest as in need of _attention_ as you."

Without further ado she pulled the cord of her dressing gown and revealed the state of nudity she had made O'Brien put her in early. Sometimes she played it coy, dressing in corsets and tantalising lace. Sometimes slightly more exotic things for Rosamund or something old she wanted to get rid of anyway for O'Brien's strong hands to rip off her body. But sometimes out and out nudity was the best option and she wasn't sure how bright Pamuk would be, or whether he would get the idea without a strong push.

"Lady…G…Granth…"

"Oh there's no need to be tongue-tied Mr Pamuk…you don't need to fear me being as skittish as Mary."

She stepped closer to him slowly, rolling her hips evocatively and smiling widely when his eyes travelled down her body. Oh lord, if there was single man she couldn't have then she was yet to meet him!

Cora placed her hands gently on his shoulders and was pleased when he didn't back away skittishly.

"Have you ever…?"

"Once m'lady."

She smiled further. Perfect. Not entirely virginal but inexperienced enough to be suitably grateful.

"Well, let me enrich your body of experience Mr Pamuk."

She lowered her hands, dragging them purposefully over his strong chest until she reached the tie of hid robe. She kept her eyes on his as she tugged at the loose knot, licking her lips with promise and pushing his robe off his shoulders entirely. He wore pyjama trousers underneath but no shirt and his waist was considerably narrower than Robert's. Good grief, it was almost narrower than _O'Brien's_! She grinned and laughed happily, leaning up to kiss him gently as her hand lowered to the waistband of the soft cotton. She ran her hand deftly over the soft material, feeling him respond immediately.

Oh the advantages of youth!

She kissed him deeper, parting his lips insistently and building up the passion between them until she heard him groan with pleasure. He finally, _finally_ seemed to gain some confidence and lifted his hand up to take her breast against his palm. It was slightly rough – she'd gotten so used to O'Brien's welcome and worshipful touch and Napier was no better – and instead she had a hand all but groping her, pinching her nipple inexpertly, but with clear intentions. She couldn't deny she liked it and Cora moaned into his mouth encouragingly. It might be slightly excessive, but it wasn't exactly _fake_.

She pushed him quite suddenly onto his back on the bed. Cora managed a moment of thinking that the poor thing looked absolutely terrified but she didn't think it was all that important in the long run and soon pounced onto his lap, reattaching her lips and groaning rather gutturally at the feel of her tender nipples pressing against a solid chest.

He seemed rather shocked by her actions but Cora was not about to stop and ask his consent. By the feel of the appendage pressing against her stomach he wasn't exactly arguing. She wriggled down his body, smiling with kiss stained lips and rubbing her body purposefully against his, until she was on her knees on the floor in front of him. He didn't seem to notice for a moment, looking rather dazed as she wrapped her fingers deftly around the waistband of his trousers and pulling them down swiftly.

Her eyes fell on what she had to look forward to and, using Rosamund's categorisations, she immediately thought "Size only doesn't matter when he knows what to do with it." She shrugged to herself – it could be worse, at least he was nearly a virgin. She climbed back until she was straddling his chest, leaning down for another kiss and being pleased when his hands came up to wrap around her hips, pulling her closer.

"Oh Lady-"

"Cora darling, call me Cora…or Countess if you must."

He smiled against her lips and she did the same, her lips falling into a soft O when his hands moved lower and squeezed her buttocks rather deftly. He must have _some_ practice. Either that or he had very naturally talented hands. She rolled her hips and didn't feel anything else was strictly necessary; she reached between them to wrap her hand around a warm, hard length before she guided it inside her.

To say his reaction was rather unexpected was an understatement.

He groaned loudly and before she could match the sounds he smirked in a way she had not anticipated and rolled them over rather expertly until he hovered above her and had her legs somehow spread impossibly wide. He pushed his mouth against hers.

"Countess…I feel I owe you gratitude for your hospitality."

She whimpered at his stillness and he soon began to move, one hand at her breast, the other holding her wrist high above her head. It wasn't a position she objected too and as he increased his pace with youthful enthusiasm Cora pushed herself back against him desperately. Ohhhh, Rosamund had been right all along…perhaps there was something better about fucking a foreigner? And this time it wasn't her!

She wrapped her free hand around his waist, slipping lower to grope his soft, firm buttocks, urging him forward and angling her hips so his thrusts gave her the best pleasure possible. It was something else Rosamund had taught her and there was yet to be a man she _hadn't _needed to use it with – although Evelyn had learnt why she moved _very _quickly – however, she had not once needed it with Sarah or Rosamund herself.

She felt it building rather quickly and was not about to be had like this by a boy she didn't even like that much beyond his physical appeal. She pushed back, only managing to move him due to his surprise. She rolled them over again until she was sitting upright, astride him, her thighs wrapped tightly around his hard hips and smirked down at him, her lips curling in what some might have thought a cruel way.

"You're not old enough to have a Countess like that darling."

She rolled her hips, slowly to begin with until she eventually closed her eyes as she sped up. One of his hands came up to squeeze her breasts and the other gripped her hip and she supposed he had lied to her earlier about his experience but she didn't really care all that much. She shrieked in her head, wishing she had Sarah's mouth to muffle her screams, and nearly bit clean through her lip as the utter pleasure assaulted every tensing inch of her. She felt herself begin a rhythm that was all but bouncing on him, their thighs hitting each other tantalisingly as Mr Pamuk had the decency to increase his rhythm.

She closed her eyes tighter and imagined Sarah in this position, thinking of the way her breasts would move and her cheeks would flush and her mouth open and-

She cried out as she came against him, rolling her hips unrelentingly and leaning down on his chest, unable to stop her movements until the tremors had passed her. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes, smirking down at him.

"I'll give you something Mr Pam-"

"Call me Kemal…you're accent is…"

She rolled her eyes.

"I know…Kemal. I'll give you something," she slid off his lap, feeling her own moisture on her inner thigh and looking forward to a late night bath, wondering if O'Brien was still up to oblige her. He was still hard and his member pressed against her thigh slightly – she didn't have a moment of guilt at what she was about to do. "That was not half bad for man who has fucked a woman _only once_."

He smiled back at her but the smile soon faded when she climbed off her bed too.

"Where are you going?"

"To bed darling. I can't stay up too late, I have guests to see to in the morning after all." She smirked again and bent over to pick up her dressing gown, more tantalisingly than she had intended but she heard his intake of breath and smiled to herself. She tied the thing around her and strode to the door before Mr Pamuk could react.

"But-"

"Goodnight Mr Pamuk…" she licked her lips, utterly amused and opened the door. "And good luck with dealing with your affairs."

She shot out of the door after her cheeky response. She so rarely got the last word that she was rather pleased with herself and all but ran back to her bedroom, elated by an orgasm – not a bad one either – and the fact she had snared another young man. It was a man Rosamund couldn't possibly have had either!

She pushed the door open to her own bedroom and found O'Brien sat on the chaise reading one of the books they were both attempting at the moment. Her maid shot to her feet and smiled at her flushed face.

"Was the evening successful m'lady?"

Cora smiled, almost giggled and came forward to hug Sarah, all but feeling her heart beat through her breasts. She smelt of soap and smoke and Cora was beyond glad she was still here – she should have known.

"Oh yes!...Can you run me a bath please? I don't want to go to bed smelling of him!"

Sarah did as she was told and Cora smiled. She'd cast her net slightly further and that was the important thing! And how likely was Rosamund to have fucked someone whose name began with a "K"! She was _definitely_ ahead of their game now!

End!


End file.
